


Blunted and Blurry

by Chancy_Lurking



Category: Tsubasa: Reservoir Chronicle
Genre: Dreamscapes, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Found Family, Gen, Mind Manipulation, Team as Family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-27
Updated: 2016-09-27
Packaged: 2018-08-17 13:24:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,250
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8145635
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chancy_Lurking/pseuds/Chancy_Lurking
Summary: "Syaoran is small and he somehow knows this is not right."
(In which Syaoran gets stuck in a dream machine and it hurts to come out.)





	

Syaoran is small and he somehow knows this is not right.

He feels like he knows what it is like to be big, that he _should_ be big, but right now, he is so small that his feet do not reach the floor of the train he is riding on. In fact, his feet – which are pressed into very small shoes at the ends of very short legs – are tapping together nervously just at the edge of the seat. He looks down in wonder at the way his untied laces dangle back and forth with the rhythm of the train and, for some reason, is deeply frightened by all of this. He begins to tear up, something is wrong, something is—

“Kid.”

This is for him, he knows.

He looks up at the voice and his fear fades a little. The big man with the dark hair and red eyes and his arm looped protectively around Syaoran’s shoulder will not let anything happen to him. Syaoran knows his name, but that knowledge feels muddled and distant in his mind, too big and complicated to fit in a space small enough for this small body.

When he tries to say it, all that comes out is, “ _Daddy…_ ”

His daddy doesn’t smile often, he knows this, but the affection and amusement in his eyes is understood, even if the words he says back are not. Syaoran moves closer to him and is less afraid.

“Little doggy,” he hears and turns to his other side.

A messy, golden halo of hair and a warm smile that glows all the way up to sky blue eyes; Syaoran knows the beauty of this face can only be found in one person. He knows this person’s name too, but “ _Mommy!_ ” leaps from his mouth before he can even think about it.

Mommy seems pleased by this and kisses his face. He says something that sounds happy that Syaoran can’t really understand, but pleases him nevertheless… If mommy and daddy are happy… Okay.

…This is okay.

This is familiar, even though it’s not right, it is familiar. He is small and confused, but his mommy and daddy are here, and they are all happy, so this must be okay. Everything is okay.

The train chugs on and pressed between his parents’ warmth, Syaoran lets the rocking lull him to sleep.

He is on this train for days, years, lifetimes.

Sometimes daddy holds him so Syaoran’s face is pressed against his neck and sometimes he lays draped across mommy’s lap. Sometimes mommy whistles and dances with Syaoran on his hip, sometimes daddy ruffles his hair and tells him things. Sometimes there is a pretty white cat that runs through and let’s Syaoran hold her and Syaoran thinks she tells him her name. Sometimes the train is dark and Syaoran cannot see, but he feels his mommy and daddy on either side and knows he is safe and loved. Above all else, he knows he is always, always, always safe and loved.

He loves his mommy and daddy and they won’t let anything bad happen to him. This train could go on forever and Syaoran would never question it as long as he could hold his mommy and daddy’s hands.

So of course, he isn’t ready for the screaming breaks as the train slams to a stop, he isn’t ready to blink and see daddy’s face, pinched and shouting at him, sentences too long and complex for him to understand. The world is loud and he is too big and gangly, and when he throws his fist, he knows what he’s doing and that is _terrifying_ and confuses him. “ _Dad—!!_ ” He doesn’t hit anything, but his head hurts and he’s falling, but then mommy— _Fai_ , his name is _Fai_ , but that hurts to think – is there, holding his wrists.

“Syaoran, we have to go,” he says slowly and firmly, and Syaoran knows the words, but the understanding of them is slow to sink in. But he knows these people—he is _scared_ , but he knows these people and the little white bun, _Mokona_ , crying on dadd— _Kurogane’s_ shoulder. He knows them and understands the shaking around him to be dangerous. His feet wobble underneath him, but when Kurogane reaches for him, this time he goes immediately, falls right into his chest heedless of the tubes and wires snapping off his arms.

This seems to startle Kurogane at first, but then Syaoran is hoisted up and Kurogane wraps his free arm around Fai, and everything is fine. This makes sense, even if the way Syaoran’s feet nearly touch the ground does not. This is how it should be.

Fai raises his hands and whistles out something sharp and quick and it seems like reality bends against his palms. The light around them is no longer flashing red, but bright like sunlight as they blink to somewhere quieter, somewhere _safer_. Kurogane’s arms never once turn him loose, even as they stumble to keep their footing in this new place.

“Well, that was close,” Fai mutters mostly to himself, slightly out of breath.

Syaoran blinks down over Kurogane’s arm at the blue grass and still feels like the world is spinning to fast, like he might fall off if he let’s go. When Fai tries to push him upright, Syaoran hangs on to both of them and clenches his eyes shut.

“Is Syaoran ok?” Mokona asks and Syaoran can hear the tears in her voice. He wants to turn to her, but he feels like the world is too bright and he might blind himself. He doesn’t know what to say.

“Kid?” Kurogane asks tersely, shifting his arm so Syaoran is completely on his feet even though Kurogane is bearing most of his weight.

“Yes,” Syaoran croaks, but turns his face into Fai’s shoulder. He smells the same, even with the tingle of magic Syaoran remembers from when he called him _mommy_ and it makes his head swim. “Can I…? Just for a moment, I…” He doesn’t know what he wants.

Fai glances at Kurogane in concern, but then lowers himself gingerly to the ground, pulling Syaoran, and Kurogane by proxy, along with him. He tugs until Syaoran is basically in his lap, his face near Fai’s neck and his arm reached out to Kurogane. “Ok?”

Syaoran nods. “Sorry.”

“Eh? Don’t apologize for hugging me!” Fai exclaims, rubbing between Syaoran’s shoulders with a sad smile. Syaoran’s hand is trembling where it’s gripping Kurogane’s sleeve.

The memories of the fight are returning, but they’re trickling in like slurry. Syaoran knows he wasn’t losing, but he had to hold his own while Fai went…to do _something_ and… Syaoran slipped—no, that’s not right. The man he was fighting was frantic to save this nightmare, trying to get Syaoran to _understand_ it and used the last of his strength to shove Syaoran into a machine. He remembers the instant pain and then the nearly instant nothingness as the top closed. It was meant to be immersive reality, a mass and infinite delusion meant to “save” the people of this world from reality, but it couldn’t hold onto a whole lifetime’s worth of memories yet, not the way the man had wanted. Syaoran had gotten stuck in the beginning of a life, a continual loop of precious yet false first memories.

A little boy, before he’d seen enough to understand true grief, on a train with his mom and dad.

Syaoran _knows_ that little boy is not him, but couldn’t it have been! Couldn’t there be another universe where Syaoran was born into an uncomplicated life, where Syaoran was _born_ not cloned and Kurogane and Fai found each other and then found him. Of all the worlds he has seen and everything he has witnessed, why is it that this simple, happy thing seems the most unlikely?

Why does it feel like he ruined it by waking up?

“You can tell us, you know,” Kurogane says after a while and Syaoran’s eyes are far too old when he looks up at him, but Kurogane doesn’t let himself look away. “Whatever it is you saw,” he continues gruffly, “I told you before, you don't have to carry it alone.”

Syaoran doesn’t know how to say he isn’t exactly carrying it, but feels like it’s been made a part of him that he’ll never be able to finish. He looks out over Fai’s chest into the hills outside the city, almost not even taking it in. He thinks he knows where the train _is_ , could find it if he wanted to.

“I was your son,” he says and it falls heavy on all of them, but in the warmest, gentlest way a weight can fall.

“Oh?” Fai says softly, with interest that thinly veils sympathetic pain. “I’ll bet you were a sweet baby…”

Syaoran starts to shake a little at that, remembering the feeling of warmth that washed over him when _Mommy_ Fai spoke with his smiling lips against Syaoran’s face. “I think you said I was.”

“Well, then I stand by it!” Fai exclaims, rocking him back and forth gently.

“I couldn't understand all of what you were saying. It was...” Syaoran thinks for a moment, “ _blurry_ , like you were speaking from far away…but...”

“But you felt it,” Kurogane finishes, like he understands entirely too well. Fai stops just short of jerking to look at him, but Kurogane has his eyes shut anyway.

“Yeah…” Syaoran answers, sagging with it, and Fai hears what he doesn’t say.

Fai understands immediately that the world they just “rescued” him from was softer and kinder than this one. For every joke Fai could make about still being Syaoran’s mommy, it wouldn’t cover up the pain of being born back into a reality where there was a lot more pain and blood. Fai understands the guilt of wanting to lose himself to a place that was blunted and blurry, of wishing he were cruel enough to damn all else and submerge. Reality is sharp and will hurt him and everyone he cares about if he’s not careful, Syaoran knows that.

Fai knows it, too.

He almost wishes he could take Syaoran back, too, but doesn’t let himself dwell on it for too long.

Instead, he curls in around Syaoran to press his lips into his hair. He feels Syaoran startle against him, but only laughs. “Ah, well, that makes sense,” he says, “It must be blurry here, too.”

“What?”

“ _Little doggy_ ,” Fai sings, and it is possibly the most consciously loving thing that has ever passed his lips. When Syaoran twists up to look at him, eyes wide and damp, Fai takes his cheek in hand. “We all know I am illegitimate, but I’m still your family.” He presses a kiss to Syaoran’s forehead, now that he can reach it and mutters softly, “You’re still our kid.”

Syaoran is flushed and teary eyed, but his face looks so much younger that Fai’s heart aches a little. Oh, he can give Syaoran this, he definitely can and _will_. He can give _himself_ this, too, even…

Fai dares a look up at Kurogane and finds his face unguardedly soft. “Right, Kruggy?”

Kurogane sniffs, a spark of annoyance flaring in his eyes at the nickname, but reaches to put his hand in Syaoran’s hair. “I only want the two kids I have,” he mutters gruffly, agreeably. His kid and his princess, his _kids_ , what a damn mess he’d gotten himself in, huh?

“Three!” Mokona corrects suddenly springing into Syaoran’s hands, “Mokona is Syaoran and Sakura’s family too, right?”

Syaoran’s smile looks significantly brighter as he raises Mokona to his face, “Of course, Mokona.”

They both make startled sounds when Fai, hardly ever one to muffle his joy anymore, suddenly wraps an arm around Kurogane, dragging them all together in a nearly bone crushing hug. “Yay!! One big happy family!” He laughs, a happy flush on his cheeks, “You can even call us mommy and daddy if you want!”

Kurogane breaks out of his embrace. “No, they _cannot!!_ ”

“Aw, why not, _daddy_?” Mokona whines, jumping towards him.

Fai leans into Kurogane’s space, head on his shoulder, batting his eyes. “Yeah, Kuro-papa, don’t be like that, you know you wanna be a da— _ow, ow!!_ ” his words break off when Kurogane grabs the two of them by the head.

“ _You’re gonna cause trouble_ ,” Kurogane growls, but Syaoran can sense the fondness in the action even as Fai and Mokona flail in pain. He laughs, shaking his head. He can’t remember the last time he laughed, and apparently neither can they, judging by the looks on their faces.

 “It’s ok,” Syaoran sniffs and laughs again. “The sentiment is enough, I…” he doesn’t quite bow, but lowers his eyes, flushed and happy, “Thank you, Kurogane-Sama.”

He nearly goes face first into the grass when Kurogane ruffles his hair again, with a little more force to hide his embarrassment, but that just makes him laugh, too.

The train feels a little less like a dead dream when his _real_ family are causing a ruckus and smiling with the _real_ him. The love the little boy felt on the train to nowhere was beautiful and uncomplicated. But the love Syaoran feels right now, with Fai dancing around him and Kurogane shouting obscenities and Mokona giggling in his ear, the love he feels in spite of the pain…

This love is the real one.

There’s no waking up from this.


End file.
